


Relationship Goals

by TearStainedAshes



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Flashbacks, Football | Soccer, M/M, Single Parent Connor, Soccer Coach Gavin, parent/teacher AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-11-28 10:15:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20964881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TearStainedAshes/pseuds/TearStainedAshes
Summary: Connor has always wanted to be a dad. When he’s still single at 25, he decides to take matters into his own hands and has a child via surrogate. Sixteen years later, his daughter Gina is trying out for the varsity soccer team, which means she has to impress the team's ruthless coach, Gavin Reed.Gavin Reed has never liked cocky assholes. He joined the army to try to get away from the ones he grew up with, only to find the military was full of them. Once stationed overseas, he got into coaching friendly games of soccer between members of the various units throughout the region. He sought out coaching again after returning from duty and quickly became known as the "Gordon Ramsay of Soccer". He's rude, crude, and downright scary sometimes, especially to the players who walk around like they own the field. But he's also patient, kind, and soft spoken to the new players as he helps them improve their game.Gina makes it her mission to make the varsity team. As she plays her heart out, Connor takes notice of the coach. He feels a pull toward him that he hasn't felt for another person in a very long time. But he can't have feelings for his daughter's coach. That would be far too awkward.Wouldn't it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It took me far too long to write this. Accompanying art doodles by [ akexin ](https://akexin.tumblr.com/) to come soon!
> 
> 12/27/19 THE ART IS HERE AND I AM DEAD. Please have a look and die with me! [HERE](https://akexin.tumblr.com/post/189878642417)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't know how soccer tryouts work at all, and I understand the rudimentary basics of how the game is played, so bear with me as I flub my way around describing the games and shit 😅

**16 years ago  
** **October 5, 2022 - 6:57 PM**

He chews his bottom lip and paces around the room. He is not the only restless one here, but he seems to be the most fidgety. He lets go of his lip to chew on his thumbnail as he continues to pace around the room. The other people in the waiting room are probably sick of him by now. He has not been able to remain still since he left the delivery room. He handles grizzly murders on a daily basis, yet _ this _ is what makes him queasy? Go figure.

_ How much longer? It’s been _ ** _hours_ ** _ since I left and nobody has come to tell me _ ** _anything_ ** _ , _ he grumbles internally. He stops pacing for a moment and scrubs his hands down his face. He is extremely grateful he pocketed his glasses earlier, because he does not have a cloth to clean them with. He reached up and tugs at his hair as he plops down into a chair. He swears he hears everyone in the room breathe a collective sigh of relief. He lowers his hands into his lap and clenches them into fists. He resists the urge to tell them all off, that he’s an expectant father for fuck’s sake and he has a right to be anxious. He manages to calm down just as a nurse walks in, making his anxieties skyrocket all over again.

“Mr. Stern?” she calls as she looks around the room.

“Yes?” He shoots up from his seat and walks over, wringing his hands. “Is everything alright? Has something gone wrong?”

“Everything is fine, Mr. Stern,” she assures him. “It all went perfectly. You can come back now and meet your baby girl.”

“A girl,” he whispers, tears welling in his eyes. “I… I have a girl?”

“You do.” She smiles and waves him through the doors. He follows her back to Chloe’s room and his tears slip down his cheeks before he even steps foot inside.

“Heyyyyy, Connor,” Chloe slurs as he walks in. “We did it.” He goes over to her and takes her hand, the one that _ isn’t _ connected to the machine taking her vitals.

“No, _ you _ did it,” he tells her. He gently squeezes her hand and smiles, his vision watery. “I almost puked, remember? I wasn't here for most of it.”

“Meh. You were here for the important part,” she says as she waves her other hand dismissively.

“Oh, sure, because jacking off into a cup for your in vitro was the _ important _ part,” he scoffs.

“We wouldn’t have your baby if you hadn’t,” she points out. Connor hums and nods as he concedes the point. “And she’s adorable,” she continues. “She looks a lot like you.”

“She does?” He looks up and sees the standard issue hospital bassinet to Chloe’s left. His breath hitches in his throat and he drops Chloe’s hand, fresh tears welling in his eyes.

“Go,” Chloe murmurs. “Hold her.” Connor walks over before she finishes speaking. He stands at the foot of the bassinet and covers his mouth as he stares at his sleeping daughter. She is absolutely perfect in every way, from the top of her head with her dark brown hair to the tips of her tiny little toes. He manages to compose himself long enough to reach out to pick her up.

She seems to sense his presence and opens her eyes to gaze up at him. He gasps when he sees them. They’re a dark brown, exactly like his. He cries more as he picks her up and adjusts her in his arms so they are both comfortable. He damn near sobs as she continues to stare at him. He places one hand over her chest, feels her tiny heart beating beneath his palm, and runs his other thumb along the back of her head. His body automatically starts to rock in a soothing motion as he talks to her.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he whispers as more tears slip down his cheeks. “I’m your dad.” He chokes on a sob and barely manages to swallow it down. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Nine months, one week, and three days,” Chloe mumbles. “But who’s counting?”

“It’s been longer than that for me,” Connor murmurs. “Years.”

“Yeah, but now you finally have her.” He turns to smile at her, tears staining his cheeks.

“All thanks to you,” he whispers. “Chloe… how can I ever thank you?”

“You can’t.” His brows crease and he blinks at her.

“What?”

“You can’t ever thank me,” she says again. “I’ve given you the greatest gift of all time. You’ll _ never _ be able to top this.”

“Oh, god dammit,” he groans. “I should’ve known you had an ulterior motive.”

“Don’t swear around the baby,” she chastises him.

“Oh, shit, sorry.” He sticks his tongue out at her when she rolls her eyes at him.

“You’re the worst,” she groans. “But I love you. And I’m so happy to have done this for you.” She reaches out to him and squeezes his wrist. “Thank you for trusting me with something so precious.”

“I’m still so happy you agreed.” He laughs and wipes at his eyes, being extremely careful to keep his daughter balanced on his arm. “How the hell did I even convince you to do this?”

“I did it out of the goodness of my heart,” she says, shrugging. “Plus, I couldn’t imagine you allowing anyone else to do this.” She squeezes his hand again and smiles. “You’re my best friend, Con. It was an honor to give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“Thanks,” he whispers, fresh tears falling down his cheeks. The baby gurgles and draws his attention back to her.

“What do you want to name her?” Chloe asks as she gazes at the small bundle in his arms. 

“Gina,” he whispers. The baby looks up at him, her eyes wide as she listens to his soft voice. “Gina Hope Stern.” He smooths her hair back and places a kiss to her forehead. “Welcome to the world, baby girl.”

**…::-::…**

**Present Day  
** **May 8, 2038 - 7:28 AM**

“Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad!”

Gina crawled onto his bed and Connor groaned. He rolled over and covered his head with his pillow, trying to drown her out.

“Go away! I’m dead! Leave my corpse be!” he shouted, voice muffled against the mattress.

“But I have try-outs today!” she protested. “You promised you’d be there! You can’t die!” She climbed onto his back and shook his shoulders. “Daaaaaaaaaaad! Come _ ooonnnnnnnn! _”

“Alright! Alright! I’m up!” he cried. “Get off!” She rolled away and he threw his pillow onto the floor. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and turned to glare at her, an errant lock of hair falling across his forehead, which only made her giggle. “Stop that. I’m mad at you,” he grumbled.

“No, you’re not,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Now get up! Grampa’s here! And he’s making breakfast!”

Connor perked up a bit at that. He sniffed and caught a whiff of coffee, a relieved smile forming on his face. Gina grinned as well and hopped off the bed and ran out the door, thundering down the stairs.

“Hey, baby girl!” he heard his dad cry. He could perfectly picture the grin on his face, which made him smile as well.

“Grampa!” Gina cried. Connor heard their laughter carry up the stairs, his smile widening. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, having to detangle some curls for it to go through smoothly. Time to get up and face the day.

He groaned as he sat up, sitting on the edge of the bed to gather his wits before attempting to stand. Once he was on his feet he shuffled downstairs. He was glad he’d fallen asleep in his pajama pants last night because he did _ not _ want to have to think about putting pants on at that moment.

“Hey, son!” Hank called out as he stumbled into the kitchen. Connor grunted at him in greeting and nodded over at Gina who was already sitting at the breakfast table eating a banana. Hank snorted with laughter when he took in his appearance. “Christ. You have a late night or something?” Connor frowned and quirked a brow.

“Yes. I was held back interrogating someone. Why?”

“Your pants are on backwards.” He pointed at them with his spatula just as Connor looked down to see his pajama pants were, in fact, on backward. He groaned and slapped a hand over his face, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling as Hank and Gina laughed at him.

“Fuck!” he swore, which made Gina laugh so hard she snorted. “Stop it.” He turned to point and glare at her, but there wasn’t any menace behind it. “You’ve done it too.”

“Yeah! When I was _ eight _,” she giggled.

“Well, I’m not fixing them,” he grumbled, dropping his hand to his side.

“Well, so long as they aren’t uncomfortable,” Hank said, shrugging as he resumed cooking. “Anyway, the coffee’s all ready for ya. You _ definitely _ need it now.”

“Thank God,” he muttered. He immediately poured some of the “Magic Happy Bean Water” as it had been labeled that morning into his DWI mug. He mixed a few tablespoons of sugar into it as well before walking over to the table.

“You actually want some coffee with all that sugar?” Hank teased. Connor just grunted and sat at the table. He hunched over his mug as if he’d be able to wake up faster just by inhaling its scent.

“We all know coffee doesn’t work that way, Dad,” Gina said as she sipped at her orange juice. “Just drink it and burn your tongue. You always do.”

He grumbled incoherently and took a drink anyway, burning his tongue and the back of his throat a little bit. He wanted to hiss from the temperature but he didn’t want to give Gina the satisfaction.

“Told you,” she said anyway, grinning smugly. He scowled and continued drinking it anyway, the initial damage now done. Hank laughed and walked over to sit their breakfast on the trivet in the center of the table.

“Go easy on him, Gigi,” he said as he sat down. “He’s still waking up.”

“I’m awake,” he mumbled around a yawn.

“Sure, Jan,” Gina joked, rolling her eyes.

“I’d be proud of you for using that meme correctly, but I’m mad at you, so you get no fatherly pride at this breakfast table,” he grumbled. Hank just laughed and began dishing up their plates. 

“Oh, sorry,” Connor apologized. He set down his coffee and picked up his plate so it was easier for Hank to dish up the food he’d made. “What’d you make for us, Dad?”

“Scrambled eggs with bell peppers, onions, mushrooms, bacon, and potatoes,” he said as he dished some onto Connor’s plate. “Plenty of fuel for tryouts, for all of us.”

“Ah. So donuts are definitely _ not _ involved this morning.”

“Donuts are _ never _ involved,” Gina groaned. “You don’t even eat donuts. Why’d you even buy that mug in the first place?”

“Because it’s _ funny _,” he huffed.

“You’re a poor excuse of a cop.”

“I eat them _ sometimes _,” Connor grumbled. “Just because I don’t fit the stereotype doesn’t make me a bad cop.”

“Yes it does,” she argued as she started to eat.

“No it doesn’t,” he argued right back, sticking his tongue out at her.

“Kids, stop fighting and eat,” Hank groaned, rolling his eyes at them.

“Sorry, Dad,” Connor mumbled around a yawn. He finished his coffee before digging into the food, wanting the caffeine to absorb into his system as fast as possible. He picked up a bite and ate it, savoring the taste before swallowing.

“This is really good, Dad. Thanks.”

“It was my pleasure, son,” he said proudly. 

“Yeah, it’s super good,” Gina agreed.

“Says the girl who’s barely touched her food,” Connor countered, pointing to her mostly full plate. “You nervous or something?”

“Ha! No,” she scoffed, though her eyes looked down to Connor’s left. “But I bet I can finish my breakfast before you do,” she challenged. He smirked, perfectly alright with handing her a distraction if it got her to eat.

“You’re on.” He readied his fork over his plate and hunched down a little. “Count of three?”

“Does _ everything _ have to be a competition with you two?” Hank groaned, slapping a hand over his face.

“Yes,” Connor said as Gina began counting.

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three, go!” She dug into her food, shoveling as much as she could into her mouth.

“For fuck’s sake! At least taste it!” Hank cried, throwing his hands up in the air.

“No time!” Connor muttered around a mouthful of food. He glared at Gina across the table and she scowled right back. He slowed down a bit so he didn’t get sick, allowing her the time to win.

“Done!” Gina announced a few minutes later. She dropped her fork and it clattered against her plate as she raised her hands up in victory. Connor sighed and also dropped his fork, pretending to be upset that he’d lost.

“You had a head start,” he grumbled. “You’d already eaten some. It wasn’t a fair contest.”

“I still won,” she said proudly, sticking her tongue out at him.

“We can talk about fairness later,” Hank interjected. “Right now you need to go get dressed, little lady. We have to leave soon.” She squealed and ran upstairs to change into her practice uniform. Connor followed her up, but with less enthusiasm. The coffee had finally kicked in, but now his stomach was upset. It was worth it though to distract Gina from her nerves.

**…::-::…**

**15 years ago  
** **November 21, 2023 - 4:02 PM**

“Hey, Dad! Oof! Gi!” The toddler squeals and reaches forward for Hank’s face, nearly kicking Connor in the groin as she does. She frowns when her fingers meet the flat surface of Connor’s laptop instead of her grandpa’s fuzzy face.

“Ga!” she cries. Connor pulls her back and grunts when one of her hands reaches up for his hair.

“Looks like she’s been a bit of a handful today,” Hank says, chuckling a bit when Gina grabs Connor’s nose.

“You don’t know the half of it,” he groans, letting her map out his face. “We’ve been working on walking all day today so we can show off at Thanksgiving. You’re still planning on coming, right?”

“Of course. Have you heard anything from Conrad and Max yet?”

“Max says he’ll make it, since he doesn’t have to teach for Thanksgiving break anyway,” Connor explains as Gina turns her attention back to his hair. “But ‘Rad might not since his schedule is always sporadic at the hospital.” Gina suddenly pulls his hair, yanking his head to the side.

“Ow!” he cries as he reaches for her hand to untangle it from his curls. “Which I might need to visit after this!” Gina just laughs and reaches for his hair again, but he pushes her hand away. 

“How about we show Grampa how your walking is doing?” he suggests to distract her. He stands up and pushes the coffee table back so there’s more room to walk and sets Gina on her feet. She grins in excitement and flails her arms. Connor’s and Hank’s grins match her own.

“Ready?” he asks the room.

“Ready,” Hank says, watching raptly.

“Okay.” Connor lets go of Gina’s hands and she wobbles a bit but doesn’t fall over. He steps back and lowers himself to crouch down to her level, balancing on the balls of his feet. “Come on, honey,” he beckons, waggling his fingers at her. “Come to Daddy.”

She squeals and takes a few steps. But she wobbles and quickly falls onto her butt. Connor tsks and stands up to grab her. She whines and holds her hands out to him, her bottom lip trembling.

“Come on, Gigi,” Connor coos soothingly. He takes her hands and hauls her to her feet. “You were so close! I know you can do it! Show Grampa you can do it!”

She babbles excitedly, her upset forgotten, and grips his fingers tight as she takes a step forward. Connor grins and slowly steps back so she can follow him. She squeals and flails her arms. Connor slowly lets go and takes a few more steps back so she has room to move. She takes a few more steps and almost falls, but manages to right herself and catch her balance at the last second. After that she toddles right into Connor’s arms, hugging him as he cries in delight.

“Dad! Did you see that?” Connor asks, turning to look at the laptop on the coffee table.

“I saw it,” he says, a proud grin on his face. Gina squeals and pulls away to walk around the living chair. “Damn. Look at her go.” He sees her disappear from sight and assumes she’s walking toward the kitchen table.

“Ah! Gigi! No!” Connor cries as he runs over to stop her. “That’s Daddy’s! Not for you.” She cries in protest when he pushes the mug she was trying to grab out of her reach, but quickly gets distracted when she notices Hank’s face on the laptop screen again.

“Just wait until she starts running,” Hank laughs, watching as she waddles over to the coffee table. “She’s gonna drive you bat-shit crazy.”

“Ga!” she squeals when she gets up to him.

“Hi, sweetie,” he coos. “You’re gonna be driving your dad crazy much sooner now. So get on that.”

“Don’t listen to him, Gi. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Connor complains. Gina taps her hands against the laptop screen, watching it wiggle. She cocks her head to the side and reaches up toward the camera.

“Uh oh,” Hank murmurs. “Con!” Gina grins and slams the lid shut, cutting off the call.

“Gina!” He runs over and scoops her up, trying to contain the wiggly toddler in his arms. “No! Not funny!” She laughs and grabs for his hair. “No!” He pulls his hair out of her hand and scowls at her. “No,” he says sternly. She seems to finally understand that he’s not playing and her smile drops. 

“Sorry, honey,” he apologizes, kissing her forehead. “But it’s not playtime right now, okay? It’s dinner time. You ready for some bananas?”

“Nas!” she cries and kicks her feet out, skimming his ribs. He winces, the bruise he’d gotten earlier from chasing a suspect through a back alley was still tender. He adjusts her in his arms before taking her out to her highchair, plopping her down in it to prevent her from running off.

“You stay here while Daddy makes you your dinner,” he tells her before walking away. She babbles to herself and bangs her hands on the tray while she waits. Connor is grateful she’s extremely good at distracting herself when he’s busy.

He quickly chops up half a banana and puts it on a plate, then spoons some vanilla yogurt into one of the other sections for her. He grabs a baby spoon before walking over to her again and sits down in front of her. She squeals in delight when she sees the banana on the plate, her little hands reaching out and making grabbing motions.

“Just a second, sweetheart,” Connor mutters as he scooches the chair closer. 

“Da!” she cries, growing slightly impatient.

“I know, I know,” he chuckles. He holds the plate up and scoops up some of the banana on the spoon and holds it out to her. She squeals again and reaches for it as he spoons it into her mouth. She giggles in delight and kicks her feet against the chair. Connor smiles and feeds her some more before she grabs the spoon from him and tries to copy his movements.

“You wanna try, sweetie?” He smiles as she spoons some yogurt up and smears it all over her face before finding her mouth. He laughs and goes to take a picture when he sees he missed a message from Hank. He snaps a quick photo to send him before opening the message.

**Dad**

**Nov. 21 [4:18 PM]**  
See? Bat-shit crazy.

🦇💩🤪

**Nov. 21 [4:32 PM]  
** Don’t ever use emojis ever again  
Please  
I’m begging you

**Nov. 21 [4:35 PM]  
**No promises.

**…::-::…**

**Present Day  
** **May 8, 2038 - 9:27 AM**

Hank had been right, of course. Once she learned to run she never stopped. He signed her up for pee-wee soccer when she was in first grade and she never stopped doing that either.

Connor smiled and sat on the bleachers while Gina ran onto the field, waving at him and Hank before joining the others. Connor waved back and took a drink of water, adjusting his hat and sunglasses to block out as much light as possible. He hated Detroit summers more than he hated Detroit winters, but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving. He’d grown up in Detroit, Gina had been _ born _ in Detroit, and he was pretty sure he was going to die in Detroit unless he managed to live long enough to retire.

“Alright, girls! Hustle up!” a voice shouted, drawing Connor out of his thoughts. He looked over to the sidelines and saw the coach amble over. Even though it was almost 90 degrees, he was still wearing long track pants and long sleeves. Connor briefly wondered how he wasn’t roasting when he caught a glimpse of his face, the scar on his nose telling him _ exactly _ who Gina was going to be dealing with that morning. He groaned and sunk down in his seat, Hank looking over at him in concern.

“Everything alright, son?” he asked as the coach began telling the girls about the mock game they’d be playing so he could see their skills.

“Gina’s told me about this guy,” he grumbled, hoping they weren’t overheard too much. “He’s a physics teacher and a real shithead sometimes. I didn’t realize he was the soccer coach too.”

“Thought you knew everything about everyone Gina interacts with?” Hank teased, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Shut up, I’m not _ that _ bad,” he grumbled as he rubbed his hand over the spot Hank had nudged.

“You absolutely are,” Hank murmured. “Now, tell me about this guy.”

“I haven’t read his file or anything,” he huffed. “But from what Gina’s told me his name is Reed. He’s an ex-army sergeant I believe? Maybe navy? He’s going to be her physics teacher next year and according to the student gossip he rips kids new assholes almost everyday for making simple mistakes. But she’s also seen him talk other students through the process when they were really struggling. He’s like… that British chef you and Mom used to watch all the time.”

“Gordon Ramsay?”

“Yeah! Him.” He nodded before looking out at the field, watching the girls line up on their various teams, each now wearing either a blue or orange ribbon around their waists. “She never told me he was the soccer coach too.”

“And you’re worried he’s going to be too hard on her?”

“Or too soft,” he whispered as the whistle blew, the girls running into action. He fell silent as he watched the game, taking note of Coach Reed as he also took notes. He never spoke a word to the girls as they played, occasionally jotting something down on his clipboard as he walked along the sidelines. Connor couldn’t help but notice he had a bit of a limp. Was he injured when he was in the military? 

Some parents cheered as a goal was scored for the orange team. Connor looked out and saw Gina high-fiving some of her teammates, so she must have scored the goal. Good. Kicks were her most powerful asset. Reed would be a fool not to have her as the designated kicker.

The game continued and Connor got more and more excited as he noticed Coach Reed smiling to himself as Gina continued to score goals for her team. He seemed impressed with her power. 

_ “As he should be,” _ he thought to himself. _ “She’s the best kicker out there. Has been her entire life.” _ He grimaced a bit, his ribs hurting with some phantom aches from her years of accidentally kicking her feet or soccer balls into him.

“Alright! Good game, girls!” Reed shouted after blowing his whistle, the last goal having finally been scored. “You all did great, but only a few of you will make it on the team. I’ll get your letters sent out in a couple of weeks, so have your parents check their mailboxes regularly until then, okay?”

“Yes, coach!” a few girls shouted, giggling to themselves. 

“Good! Dismissed!” They all scattered and Connor walked down the bleachers to greet Gina. They were all sweaty from the sun, and Gina also had a layer of dirt on her and her shorts from when she’d attempted to do a powerslide to get the ball in the goal. 

“You did great, kiddo,” Hank said after she chugged some water. “You’re a shoe-in.”

“Thanks, Grampa,” she said as she caught her breath.

“Reed would be a fool not to have you on the team,” Connor added, ruffling her hair. She swatted his hand away but smiled nonetheless. 

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Hey, how about we go out for ice cream to cool off and celebrate?” Hank suggested. 

“Yes! Please!” Gina cried.

“Get your cleats off before you get in my car,” Connor warned her. “I’m not having those things tear up the upholstery _ again _.”

“It was _ one time _,” she groaned, but sat down anyway to change into her regular sneakers. 

“Once is all it takes,” he muttered as he grabbed his keys from his pocket. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, feeling like he was being watched, and turned around to see who was there.

Coach Reed was standing off to the sidelines, another parent talking to him, but he was glancing over at him as he was being spoken to. Connor gulped, something in his gaze telling him Reed was _ not _ a man you wanted to piss off. He could see why the kids compared him to Gordon Ramsay. He was intimidating and loud, his rigid posture _ screamed _ that he was in charge (possibly a habit leftover from his time in the military), and the scar across his nose made him look like a badass who had seen some shit. He swallowed before turning back around, Reed’s unwavering gaze giving him the heebie-jeebies.

“Ready to go?” he asked Gina, trying to distract himself from the chills still running down his back.

“Yep!” she announced as she stood up, her cleats in her hand. “Let’s go!”

“Good. I need to cool off after sitting in the sun for a couple of hours.” He jingled his keys, swinging them around his finger as they walked back to the car. As Hank and Gina climbed inside, he chanced looking back over his shoulder to see if the coach was still there.

Reed wasn’t staring anymore, but he could still feel his eyes on him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12/27/19 THE ART IS HERE AND I AM DEAD. Please have a look and die with me! [HERE](https://akexin.tumblr.com/post/189878642417)

**11 years ago  
** **October 5, 2027 - 11:17 PM**

“Shit, shit, shit, fuckin’ shit,” Connor swears to himself as he drives home. “I was supposed to be home _ hours _ ago, but _ noooooo _ . Of fucking _ course _ I had to be held up covering someone else’s shift. Why did it have to be _ today _?” 

He continues to grumble aloud to himself as he pulls into the parking structure of the apartment. He parks and grabs the shopping bag from the passenger seat before practically sprinting inside and up the stairs. He’s grateful they don’t live too high up, or else this would _ definitely _ be an issue.

He crashes through the stairway door on the 4th floor and dashes to his door. It’s not too late. He still has time. Panting, he grabs his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the front door, walking inside as quietly as he can. He closes the door before the light from the hallway can wake up his brother and strips out of his vest and gear, hanging them on the coat hanger by the door.

“Con?” a sleepy voice mumbles from the couch. “That you finally?”

“Shit, sorry, Max,” he apologizes. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Wasn’t really asleep,” he says around a yawn. Connor can just barely make out his shadowy figure sitting up and stretching before turning on the lamp by the couch. “Just dozing.”

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he apologizes as he pulls at the laces of his boots. “I tried to hurry.”

“It’s fine,” Max assures him. “We made cupcakes and we saved you some after she blew out the candle.”

“Aww. Thanks.” He smiles at him as he stands up, grabbing the Meijer bag with the present inside it.

“What’d you get her?” Max asks, gesturing to the bag.

“A surprise,” he jokes. Max sticks his tongue out at him. “She’s in for the night, right?”

“Hopefully. I put her down a couple of hours ago, but she was determined to stay awake until you got home.”

“I wish she wouldn’t do that,” he grumbles as he walks toward the hall. 

“As if you could stop her!” Max calls after him. Connor scoffs and shakes his head. He’s right, of course. He can’t stop Gina from wanting to stay up so he can kiss her goodnight.

He sees light coming from under her bedroom door, but it’s faint, which means her bedside lamp is still on. He tiptoes to the door and gently pushes it open, looking toward the bed. His heart melts when he sees her asleep on top of the covers, some animals strewn out around her like she’d been playing with them before she’d passed out. He sets the bag on the floor and cleans up her toys before gently touching her shoulder to wake her.

“Gina,” he whispers as he squeezes her arm. “I’m home, honey.”

“Daddy?” she mumbles, her voice already thick with sleep. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” He smiles when her eyes open and look at him. “Sorry I’m so late. Some dummy at work didn’t come in, so I had to stay.”

“Oh,” she mutters. She sits up and rubs at her eyes while she yawns. “It still my birfday?”

“It is for another” ‒he checks his watch‒ “thirty nine minutes,” he says. “And you’re… gosh, I don’t remember. You’re growing up too fast. How old are you now, Gi?”

“Fife!” she announces, holding up one hand and wiggling her fingers. “I gotsta use all me fingies now!”

“You’re _ five _ already?” He gasps and holds his hand over his heart. “How is that possible? There’s no way you’re five!”

“Ye! ‘M fife!” she cheers around another yawn. “Maxxy an’ me made cupcakes an’ put a fife on one for me.”

“Yeah, he told me.” He smooths a hand through her hair and smiles. “I’ll have one before I go to bed, I promise. But I had to give you your present first.”

“Mo?” She looks up at him and tilts her head to the side. 

“Yep. One more bonus present.” He stands up and goes to grab the Meijer bag, thankful there’s one nearby that still has some sporting equipment in stock despite the demand. “Because your teacher told me you have _ far _ too much energy in class, she suggested we find something for you to do to help keep you not be as frantic.”

He pulls the small soccer ball out of the bag and hands it to her. She takes it in both hands and inspects it, a happy smile pulling at her lips.

“Pway soc?” She looks up at him and grins. 

“Yeah, we can play soccer together now.” She giggles in delight and hugs the ball to her, being careful not to drop it. “We can do it tomorrow, okay? Right now it’s bedtime.”

“Okay, Daddy,” she coos. He picks her up and eases her into bed properly, covering her with her warm blankets. He kneels beside her and kisses her forehead, only then noticing she still has the soccer ball in her arms.

“Are you gonna sleep with it tonight?” he asks her.

“Ye!” She wiggles a bit and places it beside her on the pillow. “Sweep here.”

“That’s a good idea, hun.” He hums and smooths her hair back again, running his thumb over her cheek before gently poking her nose. “You two get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.” She wiggles down further and pulls the blankets up, snuggling up to the soccer ball. Connor can’t help but snicker a little.

“Goodnight, Gina,” he whispers as he stands up. “And happy birthday.”

Her small voice follows him down the hall as she mumbles, “Tankoo, Daddy.”

**…::-::…**

**Present Day  
** **June 2, 2038 - 4:13 PM**

“Is the mail here yet?” Gina whined for the tenth time in just as many minutes. Connor sighed and looked over to the lobby doors, the traffic passing by as normal.

“Nope,” he grumbled, popping the P loudly. “He’s running late today.”

“But Clayton’s never late!” she groaned.

“Maybe he got held up delivering a package?” He shrugged and sipped at his coffee. “Besides, how do you know today’s the day the letter comes? Did Coach Reed say anything to you today about it?”

“Just that he mailed them two days ago and that he’s already had some parents cuss him out for not accepting their kid on the varsity team,” she mumbled, craning her neck to see around a group of people who had come inside to visit the Starbucks attached to the apartment complex.

“If he mailed it two days ago then it should already be here,” he muttered around his mug.

“Maybe he mailed the rejection letters first?”

“If that’s the case, then you _ definitely _ got in.” He set his mug on the coffee table and held her wrist. She sighed and looked over at him, worry clearly etched on her face between her brows. “Gina, honey, you don’t need to be this anxious. I’m sure you made the team.”

“I mean, me too, but I just wanna be _ sure _. You know?”

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed and let her go, patting the back of her hand. “Oh, hey, here it comes.”

Gina gasped and whipped around to see Clayton coming in with the mail, a large bag of packages also slung over his shoulder. He grinned at the two of them and Gina shot out of her seat to meet him at the lobby desk.

“Hey, Gina. Detective Stern,” he said in greeting as he passed the bag of packages over to the clerk. “How are you guys today?”

“Anxious,” Gina said, already bouncing in place. “Do you have a letter from the school for me?”

“Well, let’s see.” He reached inside his other bag and pulled out the stack of letters secured with a rubber band that had been labeled for the fourth floor. He pulled the band off and rifled through the stack, humming in thought. 

“Is it there?” Gina asked impatiently. 

“Well, there’s a letter with the school letterhead on it right here,” he said teasingly as he lifted it from the stack. “But it’s addressed to your dad.”

“Gimme!” she cried as she tried to reach for it, but Connor snatched it before she could.

“_ Excuse me _ , miss,” he sneered, looking down at her as she huffed. “I believe this is _ mine _, not yours.”

“But‒”

“No buts,” he interrupted. “I don’t want you arrested for mail theft.” She scoffed and crossed her arms, scowling up at him. He nodded and opened the letter while Clayton left to continue with his deliveries, disappearing behind the counter to the mailroom. Connor handed Gina the empty envelope and she folded it into a triangle while he read over the letter. 

Reed had handwritten it, his handwriting a bit sloppy, so it was a little difficult to make out at first. He hummed and nodded, trying to play it cool as he handed the letter to Gina. She snatched it from him and scanned the words, her nose scrunching up as she tried to interpret the words. She gasped when she realized there was a practice schedule written at the bottom and clapped her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from screeching.

“I got in!” she screamed around her hand. She clutched the letter to her chest and looked up at Connor. “I made the team!”

“I noticed.” He grinned at her and pulled her in for a hug, both of them bouncing in place a bit. Well, _ Gina _ was bouncing. Connor was just trying to hold her still. “Congratulations, honey. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she whispered, wrapping her free arm around him while the other still held onto the letter. “God, I can’t believe I did it.”

“Of course you did it. He’d have been an idiot _ not _ to take you on.” She laughed and hugged him tighter. “Now, tell me when the first practice is so I can be sure I have the time off.”

“Um…” She stepped back a bit to look at the paper. “It’s the nineteenth at 9:30 in the morning.”

“Oh, _ great _,” he groaned, slapping a hand over his face. “Fucking great. So much for sleeping in on the weekends.”

“We’ll suffer together,” she giggled as she showed him the schedule. “Each one is a Saturday morning at 9:30.”

“_ Fuck. _”

**…::-::…**

**10 years ago  
** **September 8, 2028 - 6 PM**

“Dad! Hey!” Connor waves when he sees Hank coming up the stairs and beckons him over. Hank grins and walks over, shimmying past other parents and siblings in the stands. He sits down beside Connor and grins, handing him a small bag of popcorn.

“Heard anything from Max or Conrad?” he asks as he settles on the uncomfortable bleacher seat.

“Max is stuck covering a TA’s shift,” he explains as he accepts the popcorn. “And ‘Rad’s in class.”

“Bummer for them,” Hank mutters as he throws some popcorn in his mouth.

“I told them I’d film the game, so they can watch later.” He smiles as he gestures to the DPD issued camera beside him. “What the department doesn’t know won’t hurt them, right?”

“You’ve been working alongside a detective for two weeks and you’re already utilizing the resources for your own gain?” Hank laughs and shakes his head. “You truly are my son.”

“That’s what the papers say,” he jokes as he elbows Hank in the ribs. “I’ll have it back tomorrow for my shift anyway, so they won’t even miss it.”

“Good.” He pats his knee and turns to look out across the field. The kids are practicing a bit, chasing a brightly colored ball as best they can. Lots trip and fall, but he sees on girl with her hair in an intricate braid running around like she was born to do it.

“Isn’t she great?” Connor gushes, already lifting the camera to snap some photos of Gina as she runs around. 

“She seems to be doing pretty well,” he agrees. “Who did the braid?”

“I did,” Chloe says as she takes a seat next to Connor. “Hi, Hank.” 

“Chloe! I didn’t know you were coming.” He grins at her and reaches behind Connor to pat her shoulder. “How’re you doin’, Kiddo?”

“I’m doing well, Hank.” She smiles back at him and holds out a box of candy to him. “Busy with school, but I’m just glad I found the time to make it to Gina’s first game.”

“Me too,” Connor says as he snaps more photos. “Sure, it’s just a little league game and everyone’s going to win a participation trophy, but this will be her first trophy for anything.”

“It’s definitely exciting,” Hank agrees. 

The coach blows a whistle, interrupting their chat and beckons the kids over. She kneels down to speak to them and explains the rules before letting them go to their team’s side of the field. Connor grins and takes even more pictures before switching to filming. 

The whistle blows again and the girls run toward the ball, scrambling to get to it even before their own teammates. Connor films the entire thing as Gina’s team manages to get the ball first and run toward the opposite side toward the goal. Chloe cheers and claps her hands when Gina rushes forward to kick the ball at the goalie. It misses the goal, but Connor is impressed nonetheless. She’s got some power behind her kicks.

In the end, he notes that Gina’s team has scored four goals (Gina having made two of them) while the other team has scored two. He’s extraordinarily proud of her and all the hard work she put into the game. He puts the camera back on photo mode and hangs it around his neck as he, Hank, and Chloe make their way down the bleachers to the field.

“Daddy! Didja see?” Gina squeals as she runs over, her trophy in hand. “Didja see me maked the goal?”

“Yes, I did!” He runs over and scoops her up, spinning her around to make her giggle. She squeals in delight and wraps her arms around his neck. He stops spinning to kiss her cheek and holds her on his hip.

“You did such a good job, baby girl,” Hank says as he comes over. He also smooches her cheek, making her giggle as his beard tickles her. 

“You were so good, Gi,” Chloe adds, smiling at her.

“Thanks, Miss Cwo,” she coos, smiling at her. “You maked my hair pwetty.”

“Yes, I did.” She grins and walks over to inspect the braid. “It held up well.”

“Yeah! I no wanna messitup.”

“It’s okay if you do. We can always fix it if it gets messy.”

“Oh! Okay.” She grins and hides her face in Connor’s neck, wiggling in his arms.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, getting the hint. “I think it’s time to go home and take a bath. Then we can have some ice cream.”

“Yayyyy,” she cheers around a yawn. He smiles and kisses the top of her head as he carries her out to the van. 

“I gotta tophy,” Gina says sleepily. She holds it up to him as he carries her and smiles. 

“I see that.” He adjusts her in his arms so he can take the trophy to look at it. “Your first trophy. You did such a good job, hun.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” She yawns again and slumps against him. Perhaps they won’t be having ice cream tonight after all.

**…::-::…**

**Present Day  
** **June 19, 2038 - 9:22 AM**

Connor groaned and took a deep drink of his coffee. He could easily wake up for work during the week, but on the weekends it was nearly impossible. Weekends were for sleeping in, not for waking up at 7 AM to get to soccer practice by 9. He sat on one of the benches at the side of the field, usually reserved for the players, but the field was already full of girls practicing, so he didn’t see the harm in it. He took another long drink of his coffee and groaned, rubbing at his eye with his free hand.

“You know those benches are reserved for the team, right?” a voice said beside him. He sucked in a harsh breath and turned to face the person who had startled him. 

“Coach Reed!” he gasped. He shot up from the bench and wiped it off, as if he’d left dirt behind. “Sorry! I didn’t think it would matter since they were all out practicing! I’m sorry!”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he assured him, holding his hands out to calm him down. “I was only teasing.”

“Jesus Christ,” Connor breathed out, holding a hand over his heart as he caught his breath. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Hey. You’re Gina’s dad, right?”

“Yes. Detective Connor Stern,” he said formally, holding out his hand. “Pleased to make your aquaintence.”

“Coach Gavin Reed,” he said, taking his hand and firmly shaking it. “And the pleasure’s all mine.” He smiled a wide, toothy grin and Connor felt his heart stutter a bit in his chest. His canines were so _ sharp _.

“Uh… thanks.” He let go of the coach’s hand and hid his blush by taking a drink of coffee.

“Not a morning person, Detective?” Reed asked, smirking at him teasingly.

“Not on the weekends,” he explained. “For work, yes. But weekends are for sleeping in.” He took another drink and hummed as it warmed him. Despite the sun shining brightly on them, there was a pretty harsh breeze that made it feel about ten degrees cooler than it actually was. He was grateful for the reprieve from the heat, but he should _ not _ be shivering in the middle of fucking June.

“Ah. Understood. Well, unfortunately, once they drill early rising into you in the army, you can’t ever really get rid of the habit.” He shrugged and laughed a little.

“Yeah, it’s the same with the police academy.” They both laughed and Connor took another drink. He licked his lips and shook his head when a drop dripped down his lip. Gavin’s stare didn’t go unnoticed either. He blushed a little and cleared his throat to clear the air. Gavin cleared his throat as well and turned to the field, watching the girls run around the field for a moment, jotting down some notes on his clipboard. Practice _ technically _ hadn’t started yet, so for the moment the players were just goofing around, shouting at each other and shrieking with laughter.

“Anyway, I’m glad you got my attention,” Connor said to try and cut through the awkward silence. Gavin hummed to let him know he was listening, though he was still writing. “I wanted to thank you for giving Gina a chance on the team despite how young she is.”

“I don’t think the varsity team should be age restricted,” Gavin murmured as he watched a blonde-haired girl jog around the perimeter of the field. “She’s a great player,” he added after a moment, finally looking back up at him. “She’s a powerful kicker, something the team’s been lacking for a while now. Her aim could use some work though, so we’ll be focusing on that for the next few practices.”

“Oh. Thank you.” He beamed at him before turning to seek out Gina. She seemed to be showing one of the other players just how powerful her kicks were, shooting a ball into one of the goals from halfway down the field. It just barely grazed the top of the goalpost before it flew in. 

“See?” Gavin said, raising his pencil to point her out. “She’s very powerful, but her aim could be a bit better. But it’s nothing we can’t improve upon.” 

“That’s excellent. Thank you so much.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” he mumbled with a shrug. He turned back to his clipboard and scrawled something down. He ripped the section of paper off and handed it to Connor, who looked down at it before raising his eyebrow at him in confusion.

“What’s this?”

“It’s for you. In case you need to reach me about anything,” he explained. “Sometimes shit comes up, so I figured you’d need _ some way _ of contacting me.”

“Oh. That’s very kind of you.” He reached out to take the paper but Gavin didn’t let go at first. Connor raised his eyebrow again, about to ask him what the hell he was doing, when Gavin leant in a bit closer, a devilish smirk on his face.

“I do mean _ anything _, Detective,” he whispered. “Whether it’s about Gina or the games or… something else.” He winked and Connor felt the blood drain from his face. Gavin finally pressed the paper into his hand and walked away, limping a bit. Connor remained frozen to his spot, unable to even turn to watch Gavin leave. 

Where the fuck had _ that _ come from? Had he misinterpreted their conversation as flirty banter? Or had he unintentionally been flirting with his daughter’s soccer coach?

He swallowed thickly and looked down at the numbers scrawled on the page, his hands shaking. The blood rushed back to his face when Gavin’s words came back to him, echoing in his head.

He was _ so _ fucked.


End file.
